Grimm: A Novel In The Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series (The Temple Chronicles Book 3) (5 page)

But now that was dashed all to hell. No ring.

Barbie answered my rhetorical question. “To put it mildly. They want their book back. But besides that, they’ve also accepted a contract on your head. And all known associates, guilty or not.” The temperature in the car grew frigid as the implication sunk in. She nodded before continuing. “I think it’s time you destroyed the book. You will die either way, but at least they won’t be able to summon the rest of their brothers into our world. Or their pets. I believe you were lucky enough to have met one of
them
once.” I nodded, grimacing at the memory of the demonic rooster horse Gunnar and I had fought and destroyed several years back.

“The rest? How many are there?” I asked, dumbfounded. I had assumed only a handful. Unless Jacob and Wilhelm’s mom had been particularly amorous in her day.

She smiled icily. “Hundreds. Why do you think we locked them away?”

I blinked in astonishment.
Hundreds
?

“How many are
here
already?” I asked softly.

“A dozen.”

“Oh. Well that doesn’t sound like too many. I’ve got a few friends who can help-”

“A dozen of the most dangerous, bloodthirsty, savage, supernatural hit men that ever existed. A dozen creatures who spent hundreds of years destroying supernatural citizens, regardless of their powers and joint collaboration efforts. Even Makers.” The silence was deafening. She drifted closer and lifted my chin. “You had a good round, Temple, but you played your last card. You lost. You just don’t know it yet. At least you can make sure that the rest of us don’t die too. Bring me the book. Sooner rather than later. I will help you destroy it. And say goodbye to you. I wish we could have gotten to know each other better…” With that, she was abruptly gone.

Indie and Gunnar merely stared at me with wide eyes before clamoring over each other with demands for an explanation. So I told them. Everything. I had first run into Jacob Grimm years before. Our introduction had been the true reason behind my career as a used bookstore owner. I had opened Plato’s Cave to hide the two books now resting in the satchel at my feet. I had been warned that I should destroy them. I hadn’t listened, instead wanting to study them. In the years since, the fear had worn off and I had put it on my rainy day list. As well as a zillion other things that always seemed to take precedence. So they had sat buried in a vault beneath my third projector room in Plato’s Cave for years. Unopened. Untouched. And now a liability.

The Hubris of youth…

Sharing the story with my friends helped clear my head a bit and come up with a game plan. If there was a contract out on my life, I knew a guy who might have heard about it. I told Gunnar where to turn. He did so without complaint, slowly beginning to unravel his clouded memory from the particular night we had met Jacob Grimm. After the events that transpired that fateful night, Barbie had wiped his mind clean to keep the information compartmentalized. But now I had told him the truth, and he didn’t look pleased at my deceit. Even though, technically, it hadn’t been me, I had been complicit in essentially helping him believe a lie. Which didn’t sit well with the werewolf.

I would have to make it up to him somehow.

To be fair, the sprite had wiped everyone’s memories from that night. Well, except mine. Even Kyle and Tammy, the two innocent college kids with unique healing abilities who had found themselves unwittingly entwined in the scheme to steal the books in the first place. Their accomplice had been working for the Grimms, but he was long gone now. I idly wondered what had happened to the two kids. If they remembered why they had suddenly left town and dropped out of college.

I stared off into the distance, lost in memory, until Gunnar reached our destination and parked in a vacant spot on the side of the road. “I need to make a call.” Gunnar nodded. I picked up my phone and dialed a familiar number, waiting for an answer. I had thought tonight was going to be a quick trip.

But it now seemed like my
never
was approaching earlier than I had anticipated. This was really going to mess up my five-year plan.

A familiar agitated voice answered the phone. I listened to him for a few more seconds before responding. “Are you sure you don’t have time to talk right now?” I asked softly, eyeing a Kinko’s just down the street, mind already formulating a sinister plan. Gunnar watched me warily, recognizing the familiar tone I had used, and knowing that the only safe response would have been to comply with my request. He had been on the receiving end of that tone one too many times.

But the person on the phone didn’t know me well enough to realize that.

“I shouldn’t even be talking to you at all! Fine. Give me a few hours. I need to clear up a few things first.” The phone muffled and I heard a female complaining in the background.

“I guess that will have to work. Unless you…
clear a few things up
earlier than expected. If so, I’ll be waiting.” He grunted noncommittally and hung up.

I opened the door and stepped outside. “I’ll be right back.” I told them. Indie darted out of the car to join me with a curious frown. Rather than arguing, I figured the safest place for her was in my sight. I reached out and held her hand as we walked through the frigid streets. “Isn’t that Tomas’ apartment?” She asked, pointing a thumb over her shoulder. “The dragon hunter you ran into a year ago?”

I nodded, smirking lightly.

“Why don’t we just head up there and talk to him real quick? That was him on the phone, right?”

I smiled at her, nodding. “Because he wouldn’t be focused. At this point I think he would tell us
anything
to get us out of his hair.” She frowned. “He’s got a girl up there. I think they are going out for dinner.” She rolled her eyes in understanding.

“Men. One whiff of ‘tang and they’re off like a rocket. No loyalty.”

I chuckled. “It’s in our DNA, and written in our Man Bible. We all must abide by it.” I answered solemnly.

“Right.” She rolled her eyes. “Makes you very predictable.” She squeezed my palm.

I turned my head and noticed her cheeks were rosy from the cold. Snowflakes dotted her hair like ornaments, and her lips were a deep red shade like frozen raspberries. “We’ll talk about predictable after you see my plan. I’ve been waiting a long time for something like this. The opportunity doesn’t come up as often as you’d think.”

I opened the door to the store and Indie studied me thoughtfully before entering first. I followed her and approached the register. “Good evening. I need you to do me a favor. I need some prints made.” I addressed a matronly woman behind the counter with a dazzling array of badges and flair on her company vest. Her nametag read Nadine and she instantly noticed the smell suddenly permeating the room, but she didn’t say anything about it. I handed her a flash drive I had swiped from my satchel, courtesy of Othello. I had held onto it for months, waiting for the perfect opportunity.

“Of course. How many would you two like?”

“Oh, quite a few. A hundred should suffice. You can pick your favorites.” I told her. Indie managed to keep a straight face, even though she had no idea what I was doing.

“Well, that will take about an hour. Is that a problem?” She plugged in the flash drive as I answered, clicking buttons to get to the files. They were the only ones on the drive. It wouldn’t take long for her to see them.

“No. But try to make it sooner. We can wait. We’re parked just down the street. We’ll also need a roll of packing tape and scissors.”

She frowned. “Okay. Give me your number and I’ll call you when it’s all ready.” Her frown was deepening at the items on the flash drive as the thumbnails pulled up on her screen. She glanced up at Indie thoughtfully, and then frowned. I barely managed to keep my face still.

“It’s for a prank. Bachelor party.
Boys
…” Indie murmured, rolling her eyes in a
what do you do
, gesture. She deserved a
Tony Award
.

“O…Okay.” Nadine finally responded.

“Perfect.” I gave her three hundred-dollar bills, which she took gratefully as if it mitigated the questionable task I had just hired her to do, and then led Indie back outside. I spotted a coffee shop down the street and pointed at it. Indie squinted, and then grinned.

“
Ooooh
, hot chocolate!” She clapped her hands. We headed towards the coffee shop, Indie clutching my arm tightly while we crossed the street.

I could definitely get used to this.

She was
forever
material… as long as I could get my damn ring back from the fleabag werewolves.

***

“You know, even though I’m no longer in law enforcement, breaking and entering still doesn’t sit well with me.” Gunnar complained. I opened my mouth to defend myself but he held up a finger. “Even if you did
Shadow Walk
in there. Probably wasn’t a good idea to take Indie along with you. Who knows what that kind of magic does to a
Regular
?” He spat the last word like a particularly foul-tasting racial slur.

Indie swatted his arm. “Easy, dog.” He grinned. “Nate’s done it with me dozens of times.”

“Heh… heh.” I chuckled huskily in my creepiest tone.

Indie rolled her eyes. “Men. I’m surrounded by an adolescent boy who laughs at the word
boobs
, and a senior citizen who wants to keep me locked away in a bubblewrap house.” We both piped up at that, arguing vehemently but she cut us off, face pressed against the glass eagerly. “Shhh… Pay attention. He’s coming back!” She pointed up the street, but a row of cars blocked my vision. “This is going to be film worthy…” I grinned at seeing her excitement, mildly surprised that for once she wasn’t sitting beside Gunnar chastising me. In fact, she was defending my irresponsible use of magic.

I loved this woman.

Here she was, out of her league, and totally stoked at a supernatural B&E. It made me feel more comfortable about my upcoming proposal. Even if I was enabling her criminal skills.

Which brought me back to thoughts of the missing ring. At some point tomorrow or the next day I needed to pay the were-mutts a visit. But I had enough on my plate tonight.

Gunnar was arguing with Indie. “Film worthy as in you two caught on film breaking into his apartment? Why are we sitting here, and what exactly did you two do in there?”

Indie made a surprised grunt and lowered her body deeper in the seats. Gunnar and I instinctively mimicked her, finally noticing our target walking down the street with a girl on his arm. She was clinging to him as if he was the only source of heat on the planet.

That, and possibly the only way she could remain upright without breaking her heels.

Apparently they had shared a few drinks while at dinner. She wasn’t sloppy drunk, but she definitely needed his support. I smiled to myself, wishing I had a bird’s eye view of inside the apartment. Then I remembered my new magic.

As a Maker, I was supposedly able to create things that had never been accomplished before: new magic, more powerful artifacts, and spells – basically able to work outside the limitations of traditional magic. Where other wizards were limited by their innate ability – their body and the elements immediately around them – a Maker was supposedly limited only by his imagination, implying that if they put their mind to it, a Maker could quite literally do whatever crazy idea popped into their heads.

Of course, I had a long way to go before I would be doing anything like that.

I was having a hard enough time trying to figure out how to reliably use it to recreate similar spells as I had used when I was a regular old wizard. When it worked at all, my new magic worked
differently
.

Entirely differently.

Before the Event, I would see the world around me in Technicolor, able to grab and utilize gossamer threads of power that floated in the air, weaving them into balls of fire, attack spells, tracking spells, utilize my body’s own energy for rituals to summon… things. Essentially, I used my immediate vicinity – all of it – and reshaped it to my will.

But I had been severely limited by the elements around me.

I had been a pretty big hitter compared to most wizards, but still.

I had limits.

But now…

The Maker power was incredibly different. Instead of pulling energy from the environment, it felt more like delving deep into the earth to reach through a secret portal to grasp power out of the very cosmos. A river of power flowed through the universe, and a small tributary of that river seemed to course beneath my feet at all times. The tough part was tapping into it. It was like knowing you were thirsty and seeing a fire hydrant jettisoning hundreds of gallons a minute into the air at fifty miles per hour. You had to find a way to use it, but you couldn’t just slap your cheeks into the stream and hope for a refreshing sip. You had to think. Use your mind. Grab a cup to catch the falling water, decrease the pressure of the hydrant, slow time so that the force decreased, you know, hard things to think about when you were in the thick of things.

Seeing as how I generally didn’t get much time to sit there and think during a brawl, I had spent my time trying to relearn the equivalent of my favorite attack and defense spells as a wizard, with marginal success. I could always
feel
the river of power.

It was
harnessing
it that was not very often successful.

I could spend an hour and my attempt would pass through the river every time. The next day I could get it seventy percent of the time. Other times I had been angry and it had instinctively been waiting for me, ready to be cast in any way I saw fit. Like when the power had first hit me and I found myself in a tussle involving Angels, Demons, Academy Justices, and the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. I had simply
thought
of what I wanted, and it happened without question or effort. Easy as pie.

Absolutely every time since then had been a grueling battle of wills. It was almost like a relationship.
His Needs, Her Needs
. I needed to establish the proper code of conduct in order to impress the river of power enough to give me what I wanted. Like foreplay before sex. It required a bit more work.